


It's not what it looks like, I promise!

by ClementineSunshine



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Car Accidents, Crack Treated Seriously, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, Hinata Hajime Is so Done, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito-centric, I started writing this as a joke and it got out of hand, Komaeda Nagito is a prostitute, M/M, Minor Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Mutual Pining, Sex Work, Sexual Tension, This isn't smut I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineSunshine/pseuds/ClementineSunshine
Summary: “Fuck”, Hajime yelped. He ground his foot into the brake pedal, jolting his car to a stop. He sat there for a moment frozen in shock, digging his nails into the steering wheel. “Maybe it was a deer” he mumbled.Hajime learns that maybe not all mistakes are bad.Basically, Hajime accidentally hits a prostitute on his way home and decides to load him into his car and take him back to his, it only gets more convoluted from there.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 44
Kudos: 197





	1. How does Hajime still have his driving liscence?

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as a joke based on the Psyche Taxi minigame from Danganronpa V3. This chapter is my first fic and it was written in one sitting, hope you enjoy it! :)

“Fuck”, Hajime yelped. He ground his foot into the brake pedal, jolting his car to a stop. He sat there for a moment frozen in shock, digging his nails into the steering wheel. “Maybe it was a deer” he mumbled, he already knew it wasn’t. What kind of deer had bleach blonde hair and stood on 2 legs? Hajime rubbed his eyes, opened his door, and stiffly stumbled around to the front of his car.

A form lay crumpled on the asphalt, bleached by his headlights. The same form that he had distantly seen staggering down the road and after an unreasonably long blink, crushed against his windscreen. He knew he should’ve had that extra coffee, or maybe it was the coffee’s fault, his hands were shaking an awful lot. “Right okay” he slapped his cheeks to try and dredge up some long-lost energy. He bent over to check on the person who he had definitely not hit with his car. They were lying face down, he prodded them with his foot… Not a sound. He cursed under his breath, “I really don’t have time to get arrested right now”. He knelt and rolled the person over, they were surprisingly light and extremely underdressed. Their arms were bare, their torso only covered by a thin t-shirt, and their legs clad in ripped skinny jeans. Looking at their face Hajime could now see it was a guy, his skin was cold to the touch and his lips slightly tinged blue.

Hajime placed his hand in front of his mouth and felt a gentle, warm breath tickling his palm. He sighed in relief and slouched, mumbling a prayer to whoever was listening. It wasn’t all over yet though, he had still hit the guy. What if he remembered his license plate, or what his car looked like. The chance was slim, but not zero. The guy also had a nasty gash on his forehead, his face was pale enough to blend in with his almost white hair that hung limply around him, some plastered to his forehead with blood. He also had a few other scrapes, and probably some nasty bruises. “Oh god what if he has broken bones” Hajime fretted. “Okay okay… Plan, I need a plan”. No way could Hajime pay for a lawsuit. His shitty office job was barely enough to pay for his apartment, he had two roommates for christ's sake!

Maybe it was the fact he had slept a total of five hours over the past week, or maybe it was the fact he was a colossal dumbass, but Hajime decided to hoist the guy into his passenger seat and drive home. Maybe it counted as kidnapping, Hajime was too panicked to care, he hoped the guy wouldn’t mind. He cranked up the heating in his car, although it hardly made any difference, at the speed he was going it was a surprise his engine didn’t combust. Finally, he pulled to a stop outside of his apartment. The guy still hadn’t stirred. He clambered out of the car and wheeled around, making sure there were no witnesses. He really didn’t want his neighbours to see him dragging what appeared to be a corpse. While he didn’t particularly care about his reputation, Makoto did and he was sadly associated with him. Thankfully no one was around, and Hajime had never been gladder to live in an apartment block without security cameras.

He walked over to the passenger door and yanked it open. Thunk! Well if he didn’t have a concussion before he definitely did now. Hajime cringed internally and bent over to pick the guy up. He fumbled a bit trying to figure out the easiest way to carry the guy, seeing as he was a dead weight. The only way that would work is to throw the guy over his shoulder, he still needed a hand free to open doors, he couldn’t exactly ask the mystery man to open them for him. If he could he wouldn’t need to be carrying him in the first place. He rested the guy's hips on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around his thighs to secure him. Now he had to stand up, he stumbled a bit, his knees buckling under the weight.

Hajime managed to steady himself and slowly trudged over to the entrance. He shouldered the door open, the momentary tilt of his torso sent the blonde's hips careening into his ear. Hajime quickly righted himself, causing his back to emit a large crack. His face was dusted pink and his ears burned, he figured it was just due to the sudden change of temperature, definitely nothing else.

He jabbed at the elevator call button with his finger, he was beginning to sweat. Suddenly it hit him and his stomach dropped, what if the elevator wasn’t working? He lived on the 4th floor! No way could he carry this guy all that way! Just as he began to spiral there was a ding and the elevator door slid open. Hajime rushed into the elevator, colliding with someone exiting it, oh no. “Duuuude, calm down, why in such a rush” Hiro slurred, he clearly wasn’t sober, as usual. Hajime slammed the close door button so fast the doors almost caught Hiro’s hair. He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, hopefully he wouldn’t remember that.

Hajime selected his floor, and now comes the waiting… Still waiting… Sweat prickled at the back of his neck and his muscles burned with exertion. The mystery man’s zipper was pressing uncomfortably into Hajime’s shoulder. He tensed realising exactly what he was doing. Oh god, what was he doing! Welp… it was too late to back out now. The elevator doors finally slid open and Hajime heard a gentle moan in his ear. “Shit” he hissed, why did he have to choose now to wake up?! Okay only a few more steps to his apartment, of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Stood right in front of him, clearly waiting for the elevator was Kyoko, Makoto’s girlfriend. He froze, she gave him a quick glance. Her face was blank, almost bored as if this was a normal occurrence. Kyoko quirked an eyebrow at him before flicking her hair over her shoulder and striding into the elevator as if nothing had happened. Hajime almost melted on the spot in relief, hopefully she doesn’t mention this to Makoto.

As he stepped out of the elevator, the movement jostled his precious cargo and the man began to shift. Hajime flat out sprinted to the apartment door and fumbled with his keys, almost dropping them. He shoved them into the keyhole, managing to wrench the door open. He said a silent prayer that his roommates would be normal fucking people for once and not be up at three AM, but the fact that Kyoko just left didn’t bode well. Lucky for him his room was right next to the doorway. Suck on that one. He threw himself across the threshold, yeeting the guy onto his bed before slamming his back into his door. “Damn Makoto and Shuichi must’ve heard that”. He stood up from where he had slid down onto his floor and decided maybe, just maybe, he should check on the guy that he may have hit with his car.

The guy was slumped against his headboard, partially conscious, barely even partially and he was muttering. Hajime fetched the first aid kit from his bedside table and settled himself on his knees over the guy’s lap so he could tend to his head wound. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but it was all he could think of. Hajime sucked in a sharp breath, he really should’ve tended to it earlier, it looked really nasty. The guy was looking really pale, and his cheeks were flushed, he probably had a fever. Hajime ripped open a disinfectant wipe and began to gently clean the crusted blood from around the wound.

He was so close, he could feel the guy’s warm breath against his collar bones, it was starting to make his chest moist, and slightly sticky? He could see that the guy’s eyelashes were long and thick, gently fluttering like his eyes were moving around and his pale skin was dotted all over with freckles. His eyes followed them down to his chest, wondering how far those freckles went “Snap out of it Hajime” he muttered to himself, he spotted some nasty bruises on the guy’s neck and jawline, he’d have to get him some ice.

He reached behind him groping for the first aid kit but instead groped something else. That was definitely not a first aid kit unless first aid kits were suddenly warm and fleshy. He jerked his hand back and his face grew hot. He craned his neck to actually locate the first aid kit, okay it was right next to the guy’s leg, his warm, fleshy leg. Hajime was starting to feel lightheaded. He managed to pull out an adhesive dressing and turned back around to apply it. Hajime gently smoothed down each side of the adhesive with his fingertips and sat back on his heels to admire his handiwork. He couldn’t see if the guy had any more injuries, at least not from where he was.

He leaned forward again to check the back of the guys head, there could be an injury hidden under his hair. Hajime wasn’t really paying much attention and so he didn’t notice the fact that the guy had stopped mumbling. As he wove his hands into his damaged hair, his fingers probing for anything not normal he was caught by surprise as something warm and slick met his lips and a solid weight was slung around his waist, pulling him in. He stilled for a moment before realising what was happening and wrenched himself out of the loose embrace. He scrambled backward with such haste that he launched himself off of the bed and onto his floor with a thump. He whipped his head up to look at the now fully awake figure on his bed.

He had his head inclined to the side and looked remarkably like a kicked puppy. “Is that not what you wanted? I’m sorry I don’t really remember” His voice was high and breathy, a little raw like someone who hadn’t spoken in a while, that might just be the head wound. Hajime sat there for a minute gaping like a fish, no sound seemed able to leave his mouth. The guy began to crawl towards him, wincing a bit when he put weight onto one of his legs. It was definitely a seductive crawl, but in a clearly practiced way. Hajime was like a deer in headlights staring helplessly into his frosted green eyes as he got closer and closer, now he was on the floor. Oh god, he was touching Hajime, his hands running up his thighs, wait what? “W..wait stop!” Hajime blurted out, abruptly coming back to himself. He realised the position they were in, almost flipped to how they had been not even a minute earlier. “What are you doing?” he asked, slightly more firmly now, his voice definitely not trembling, maybe he also had a head wound.

The guy sat back on his haunches, he looked ready to pounce or flee at any second. His face held an absolutely baffled expression “I’m sorry? Why did you hire me then?” Hajime thought the guy was maybe joking, it was a very weird joke if he was, but he seemed completely sincere. “Look, to be honest, I don’t even remember how I got here so it would be great if you could elaborate and stop wasting the time you presumably paid for” he continued, he seemed nervous. Hajime wanted to facepalm, the guy was a prostitute! That explained everything, well not everything, but a great deal. Whooh, at least he didn’t need to worry about the guy taking him to the police then. “I uh, I didn’t pay for anything” Hajime managed to stutter out.

“Well do you want to?” He looked up with heavy-lidded eyes.

“No, no. I hi-I mean I found you at the side of the road, I think someone must’ve hit you with their car or something… maybe.” Hajime rambled out “I brought you back to my place to treat your wounds, by the way, what’s your name?” He scarcely took a breath as he rattled all this out, the dam had finally broken. The guy looked very taken aback as he slumped to lean against Hajime’s bed “It’s Nagito, not that it really matters, I should go. I wouldn’t want you to waste any more of your time on someone like me” He hoisted himself up and began to hobble over to the door. “Wait!” Hajime cried out just as Nagito’s knee buckled under him and he began to pitch backwards.

Hajime caught him by the waist, his grip lingering just a tad too long, and helped him back onto the bed, why was he in such a hurry to leave? He could still feel the warmth clinging to his palms, he shook his head to dispel those thoughts. Nagito had started babbling again about how he was “worthless” and Hajime should have left him “to die at the side of the road” and various other apologies. Hajime elected to ignore it. “Look your leg is clearly fucked up can I at least have a look at it”

“Uuh..you really don’t have to”

“Yes, but I want to,” Hajime coaxed. He was starting to not. Was this really worth the trouble? He heaved a sigh, this was his responsibility, he did hit the guy after all. “I think it's my knee,” Nagito mumbled. Okay, I can work with that, he’s in ripped jeans, easy, knee’s exposed, probably just a graze. Hajime kneeled in front of Nagito as he sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. It’s the only way he could see clearly! He wobbled a bit and flailed his hand out, hoping to grab the bed. He did not grab the bed. Nagito let out a squeak as Hajime firmly planted his hand on his thigh. Right at this moment, his bedroom door swung open. Shit. He hadn't locked the door.

“Hey I’m gonna head to the store do you need anythiii….” Hajime whipped his head around making eye contact with Makoto stood in the doorway looking like a tomato. Hajime felt himself blush even more if that were possible, he was frozen. “Okay well text me if you need anything” Makoto rushed out before darting away. Hajime shot up “Wait no! It's not what you think” He yelped, but it was too late, he had left.

He felt eyes burning into him and whipped his head around once more. This time making eye contact with Shuichi. Who just so happened to be in the kitchen at this exact moment. He cross-legged on the countertop, slouched over a pint of his ice cream, spoon dangling out of his mouth. That emo piece of shit had seen the entire thing, he was never gonna hear the end of this. Hajime just heaved a deep sigh of resignation, it wasn’t the first today and with his luck wouldn’t be the last. He wheeled around and strode back into his room, slamming the door behind him.


	2. So, how did you two meet?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re Hajime’s uhhh boyfriend? Right? I’m Makoto, his roommate” He said it in such a well-meaning way that it couldn’t be taken any way other than completely sincere. He stuck out his hand for a handshake. 
> 
> How awkward could breakfast with a guy you just met and his roommates be, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly wasn't planning to continue this but I got bored and inspired so here you go. This chapter is a bit longer than the first one, I'm going to try and keep them at around 3k each but we'll see how that goes. Hope you enjoy it, please comment and leave kudos, I really appreciate it :)))

Nagito slowly eased open his eyes and started to roll out of bed. As he rolled onto his side to clamber out of bed he gasped in pain and, with the pain, last night came flooding back. His left leg must’ve taken the brunt of whatever happened to him because the moment he put any weight onto it his whole body was filled with a white-hot flash of pain. He prodded at his knee and choked in pain again, yeah, something was definitely not right. With his luck, it was probably never going to be the same, and after Hajime had spent so long trying to help him, he really had wasted his time. 

He’d even insisted he stayed the night and given Nagito his bed, he’d adamantly tried to refuse but eventually accepted, being too tired to argue anymore. 

Speaking of Hajime. Nagito wriggled over to the edge of the bed as quietly as he could, stifling squeaks of pain with his hand, if he hadn’t woken Hajime yet he really didn’t want to do so now. When he reached the edge of the bed he leaned his head over the side to look at Hajime where he was asleep on the floor. Great, he was still asleep. He looked so peaceful, his face was calm and relaxed. He was snoring gently, he must be a heavy sleeper. Sun was leaking from behind the curtains, making him glow, it looked like an angel’s halo. He really must be an angel, Nagito thought. 'He put up with me, I shouldn’t cause him any more trouble.'

Okay. He could do this. He shuffled to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side. Nagito ran a hand through his hair, it felt sticky? He should really have a shower, he was disgusting. The thought of a hot shower was enough motivation for him to gingerly place his feet down. Bracing his hands on the mattress he heaved himself up. 

This wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be! He wheezed out a dry chuckle. Sure it hurt like hell, he probably deserved it anyway. Nagito took a step forward and his knees immediately locked, he went crashing down. He managed to catch himself on a dresser, leaning on it heavily for support he shook his leg out a bit. 

Something clicked, like audibly clicked. He could feel something in his knee move back into place, the pain eased from a white-hot poker to a dull ache. He tried to put weight on that leg again and found that this time it was a lot sturdier. Nagito scanned the room, looking for his shoes, they were neatly placed next to the door. He gently tip-toed over to them, avoiding any debris on the floor, and grasped them tightly in one hand. He began easing the door open with the other, he felt like a ninja, sneaking around an unknown place. This was significantly less cool than he had assumed it would be when he was a kid though.  
As he closed the door behind him, the click echoed loudly in the silence. The air left his body in a rush and he deflated. He turned around, leaning on the door for stability, starting to put his shoes on. Or at least that’s what he had planned to do. However, what he actually did was make eye contact with someone who was presumably Hajime’s roommate. “Fuck” slipped unbidden from his lips.

His thoughts were going a million miles an hour, he’d been so busy trying to not wake Hajime that he hadn’t checked if the coast was clear, he would make a terrible ninja.

Hajime’s possible roommate looked nice enough, he had scruffy brown hair and a kind look in his eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a green hoodie, overall he looked soft. It was probably a lie, most likely he thought he was disgusting but was too nice to say. Nagito plastered a polite smile on his face, almost a customer service smile “Hey, sorry if I’ve bothered you, I’ll just be on my way now”. It came out smooth and easy. He turned to leave, trying his best not to bolt.

“Oh wait!” The man called after him. Nagito froze, hearing footsteps getting closer and closer until they fell silent. He turned around, an easy smile still plastered on his face. “You’re Hajime’s uhhh boyfriend? Right? I’m Makoto, his roommate” He said it in such a well-meaning way that it couldn’t be taken any way other than completely sincere. He stuck out his hand for a handshake. Shit, shit, shit. He started to panic, he couldn’t exactly say ‘oh no, I’m just a hooker he hit with his car’. That would ruin Hajime’s reputation and he also couldn’t just say he was a friend. Makoto had seen the two in a rather, ahem, compromising position last night. But, Nagito couldn’t just leave him hanging. He firmly grasped his hand and gave it a few shakes before releasing, while saying “Yes I am, my name’s Nagito, it’s nice to finally meet you”. 

It was a textbook handshake, firm but not painful. Nagito was really digging himself into a hole here. As if anyone as amazing as Hajime would want to be associated with him. “Why don’t you stay for brunch? We can talk and get to know each other?” He was probably just saying that to be nice. He should think up an excuse to leave, he wouldn't want to burden him with his presence. 

Lost in his thoughts, he apparently answered too slowly and Makoto took his silence for agreement, ushering him into the kitchen. Nagito tried to protest but Makoto insisted. 

He could smell bacon and eggs frying. His stomach growled and his mouth began to water a little. When was the last time he had eaten? He didn’t really remember, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to stay for brunch.  
_________________________________________________________________________________

“Huh?” Hajime slurred out, there was someone knocking at his door.  
“Hey brunch is done!” Makoto hollered through the door.  
“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit,” He called back. Whew, he didn’t know why but that knock had terrified him. 

He scrubbed a hand across his face and sat up, yawning deeply. His whole body ached, he didn’t really know what else he expected after having slept on the floor all night. Speaking of, the reason he was sleeping on the floor, Nagito. “Shit” he cursed. How was he going to get him out? Makoto and Shuichi would definitely see if he tried the bedroom door now and the window was also out. Even if Nagito wasn’t injured Hajime doubted he could scale down four floors. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even think to look at the bed. 

Well, the first thing he needed to do regardless of his plan was to get out of bed (or rather get off of the floor). Hajime heaved himself up, stretching his arms above his head. He twisted side to side causing his spine to elicit a series of pops. Ah, that was better. He let out an audible sigh. He turned his head to the bed and stopped, mouth gaping wide open as his jaw fell slack. He was gone? He must’ve left before I woke up. He felt strangely empty, part of him wished the strange man was still there. Well, at least that solved that problem.

He quickly threw his faded blue leaver's hoodie on over his worn sleep shirt and wandered into the main living area. He migrated over to the scuffed kitchen table that Makoto had found dumped just outside the apartment. He was really lucky sometimes, it was the perfect size and everything. 

Shuichi was hunched over, shovelling bacon into his mouth, or at least he assumed it was Shuichi. All he could see was a navy blue blanket hoodie and emo hair, which pretty much summed up Shuichi anyway. He would very often sit with his knees tucked up inside his hoodie to making him look like some bizarre stuffed animal, which was terrifying the first time Hajime went to get a drink late at night and saw him sitting on the counter. 

Makoto, as always, was fully dressed already and reading a newspaper while sipping his coffee. Like a boomer. Makoto said a cordial good morning which Hajime returned, Shuichi didn’t even seem to notice him, too intent on hoovering up bacon. Hajime pulled out a chair, it screeched against the lino, and plopped himself down into it. He immediately began by grabbing a few pieces of toast from the toast rack (who even owns toast racks even more?) while Makoto finished dishing up in his stupid naked man apron. He couldn’t believe he actually used that, it was a gag gift for god’s sake! Wait, what? How could Makoto be in two places at once, as far as Hajime knew that wasn’t something he could do. 

He glanced up at who was dishing up and froze again, he felt a sudden strong urge to vigorously smash his head into the table. “N-Nagito?!” He stuttered out taken off guard. He looked a lot better now, he was still pale but it looked more natural, there was some pink to his cheeks. His hair was half tied back in a ponytail but a few pieces had obviously escaped, they framed his face like wisps of clouds. The sunlight from the kitchen window behind him made him almost glow, his hair a halo around him. Hajime was transfixed, he looked so different from last night, to be fair last night he was bleeding out and concussed. 

Hajime was broken out of his reverence by Nagito responding “Yeah, Makoto convinced me into staying for brunch before I left” An easy smile was plastered on his face as he hung up the apron and sat down at the table across from Hajime. He was even acting different, maybe it really was just the head wound speaking last night. 

Everyone began to dig in. They all ate in silence, the only sound being the scraping of cutlery and the clink of drinks being put down. Hajime took a gulp of orange juice and sent a nervous glance to Nagito. Makoto evidently decided that it was interrogation time. “Hajime never mentioned he was seeing someone, how long have you two been together?” The question was clearly meant to break the tension, but all it succeeded in doing was thickening it. 

Hajime nearly choked on his orange juice and Nagito was looking ready to bolt, his smile growing a little forced. While Hajime recovered Nagito began to lie through his teeth. “Only about a month, that’s probably why he never mentioned anything” Nagito followed this with a chuckle and began to fiddle with his ponytail.

“Wait” Shuichi interrupted “Hajime has a boyfriend?” He had finally looked up from his food, he really needed to learn to use makeup remover, it seriously looked like someone had been playing the black eye telescope prank on him. Although knowing Kokichi that was a possibility. “Who did you think this was?” Makoto noted while gesturing at Nagito with his knife. Nagito flinched away, only minutely, but Hajime noticed it.

“I didn’t think too hard about it, figured it was one of your friends” Shuichi mumbled around a mouthful of toast. Makoto let out a deep sigh and Hajime thought that smashing his head into the table was seeming more and more appealing. 

Makoto quickly tried to recover from that train wreck “So how did you two meet anyway?” Okay, Nagito covered last time so he could get this one. He needed something cute but realistic…. Got it. This was perfect. “We actually grabbed each other’s orders in the coffee shop and started chatting. They ended up having to kick us out because we stayed so long” Hajime rubbed the back of his head and looked down, trying to look sheepish. “That’s actually really cute,” Makoto replied, looking surprised. Hajime wanted to fist pump, they’d bought it! He’d probably expected him to say they’d met online. Nagito chimed in apologetically, “Yeah I’m really scatterbrained sometimes, I didn’t even notice until I had sat down” he followed up with a nervous chuckle. They were running like a well-oiled machine, no slip-ups yet. Hopefully, Shuichi would keep his mouth shut, Makoto always was more trusting. Although he now felt a little guilty for taking advantage of that trust. 

They managed to fumble through an awkward conversation with relatively few slip-ups. It was harder than he thought it would be. Makoto was being really thorough with his questioning, thankfully it was all quite light and easy. Hajime just hoped he didn’t ask about what Nagito did for a living. Shuichi had left at some point to start getting ready because he supposedly had a lecture in a half hour. He was probably just going to hang out with some friends (cough-Kaito-cough). Almost 20 minutes later and they were still chatting, both he and Nagito were too awkward to say anything so they both smiled and nodded trying to avoid giving contradicting information. “So what do you do for work?” Makoto innocently asked. Fuck. 

Nagito made a shocked face and looked over Makoto’s shoulder “I am so sorry but I really should be going, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten!”, Nagito started standing up hastily. Genius idea, he had been looking directly at the clock on the microwave just over Makoto’s shoulder. Hajime could kiss him. He quickly dismissed the thought and stood to follow after Nagito. “Oh, well it was so nice to meet you” Makoto responded.

“It was lovely to meet you too” Nagito forced out, his smile was starting to look a little tight. They quickly exchanged farewells as he and Nagito headed towards the door so they could talk away from prying ears and eyes while Makoto began to wash up. 

As they rounded the corner away from the kitchen Nagito visibly relaxed, the polite smile sliding from his face like it was never there in the first place. He looked more human and much more tired. Without thinking Hajime placed a palm on the side of his face, Nagito leant into it and sighed, his cheek warm and soft. This was definitely a normal thing to do, right? Reluctantly Hajime pulled his hand back and he was probably projecting but he thought Nagito looked a little disappointed too. 

“I should go,” Nagito said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. He turned about to leave. “Don’t go” Hajime loosely grabbed his wrist, he could still very easily leave, but he didn’t, he turned back around. His clear eyes met Hajime’s “Not yet at least”. Even to himself, he sounded pathetic. “I uh, they think you’re my boyfriend,” Hajime said, stating the obvious. 

“I am so sorry about that, I know you would never want to be associated with someone like me, I-” Hajime interrupted his self deprecating spiel.  
“We should probably trade numbers? If we’re boyfriends, right?”  
Nagito looked shocked, his mouth open in a little ‘o’. Hajime couldn’t help but stare at his lips, remembering how they had felt for that brief moment that they had met. 

They looked chapped, Hajime could imagine him worrying his lip between his teeth when he was nervous or trying to focus. He looked down, realising his hand was still wrapped around Nagito’s wrist. He let go, leaving his hand swinging loosely at his side, it looked lonely. “H-here give me your phone” Oh god why did he have to stutter “I’ll put my number in and then you can text me, I left my phone back in my room” he wore a patient smile. 

“Oh sure” Nagito reached into his pocket and shyly brought out his phone, he unlocked it and handed it over to Hajime.  
_________________________________________________________________________________

He twiddled his fingers together and fiddled with his ponytail, darting his eyes around, basically trying to do anything but look at Hajime, or think about all the missed calls he’d seen on his phone. He could still feel the ghost of a hand pressed to his cheek and wrapped around his wrist. “Here!” Hajime thrust the phone back into his hand, it caught him off guard and he fumbled, losing his grip. The phone went hurtling towards the hardwood floor. He really didn’t want to buy a new phone so he frantically scrambled to grab it. 

Hajime apparently had the same idea and in the panic and they managed to trip over each other. With a thump, they fell into a heap on the floor. Nagito sat there, his legs tangled with Hajime’s, he started laughing. He couldn’t help it. At first, it was just a giggle, barely even a chuckle. It bubbled up from his chest and leapt from his mouth. Soon Hajime joined in and they were both sat on the floor together cackling like madmen, tears streaming down their faces, phone all but forgotten. 

The absurdity of their situation had hit them full force. Nagito was lost in laughter, he grasped at his sides, his stomach beginning to hurt. His eyes were squeezed shut as he wheezed.

Eventually, he regained some semblance of sanity and blinked the tears from his eyes. He glanced upwards to see Hajime gazing down at him, his hand extended. He reached out and grasped his hand, it was warm and solid, he heaved him to his feet. 

Why did he care about him? Hajime went out of his way to help Nagito when he could’ve just as easily left him. He just didn’t get it, what was he gaining out of this?. He even seemed happy to do it, if the smile on his face and fondness in his eyes was anything to go by. Smiles could be faked, but eyes couldn’t. 

Nagito wanted to get it, especially if it meant he would keep looking at him like this. He knew it couldn’t last for long, eventually it would sour as most relationships did. But he would take what he could get, he was selfish like that. “Oh, here” Hajime handed him the phone once again, this time placing it solidly into his hand. He wrapped his hand tightly around it, letting the edges cut into his palm to ground him before shoving it roughly into his pockets. 

“Thank you, for everything, really. I don’t know why you would help someone like me. But I’m really grateful, I am”. He smiled a smile that hurt his cheeks, but it was genuine and he hoped Hajime knew that. 

He turned to finally leave. “Wait!” Hajime cried out. “It’s really cold out, you’ll freeze like that”

“Oh I’ll be okay, don’t trouble yourself, really” Nagito tried to reassure him, holding up his hands like you do when backing away from an argument. But it was too late.

Hajime was already removing his hoodie. As he raised his arms and pulled his hoodie off his shirt rucked up, exposing his stomach. Nagito tried not to stare, which meant he was caught off guard once again when the hoodie was shoved into his hands. He tried to stutter out a thanks but it caught in his throat. He pulled the hoodie on in an attempt to hide his blush. 

He felt a little disappointed as the door closed behind him but how warm he felt definitely made up for it. The hoodie was still infused with Hajime’s body heat and it smelled faintly of spices, probably his cologne. Nagito just had one problem: How did he get home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on trying to update this on Wednesdays or every other Wednesday, if I don't update this I will probably post another fic, I have a very Shuichi centric one planned currently.
> 
> I just finished playing V3 the other day and (SPOILERS)
> 
> I really disliked the ending, I feel like it ruins the entire story, the more I think about it the worse it gets. What are y'all's opinions on it?


	3. Is it really worth it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He fished out his phone from his pocket and heaved a deep breath. He quickly navigated his way to maps and typed in his home address, he really had no idea where he was. Just as he was about to click search a call popped up, blocking him. The caller ID read ‘Junko’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo this one got a little out of hand. Every time I edited this chapter it ended up getting more and more angsty. If you want more angst check out the [Shuichi-centric fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001699) I did last week, that one is nowhere near as bad.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> Physical abuse, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, slut-shaming, mention of prostitution, pimp, mention of drug use, self-deprecating thoughts
> 
> I do *** before and after the worst of it and leave a summary of what happens at the end of the chapter. If you notice any trigger warnings I've missed please let me know in the comments.

Nagito stood outside the doors to Hajime’s apartment building. It was fresh and bright. The wind nipped at his cheeks and made his hair swirl around him. He quickly slunk around to a sheltered alleyway and rested his back against the prickly concrete. The sunlight was starting to burn his eyes. 

He fished out his phone from his pocket and heaved a deep breath. He quickly navigated his way to maps and typed in his home address, he really had no idea where he was. Just as he was about to click search a call popped up, blocking him. The caller ID read ‘Junko’. Nagito went cold despite the hoodie that swamped him, he felt himself trembling. With an unsteady finger, he swiped away the call. “What am I going to do?” he pleaded with himself.

Junko would be pissed, she wanted her money and Nagito was pretty sure he didn’t have it. He didn’t remember all that much from last night, after he turned his first trick it all went a bit fuzzy. All he remembered was a rough voice, calloused hands, and a firm grip. He might’ve taken something or been given something.

He reached into his back pocket for his wallet, thankfully he still had it. He swapped his phone for the wallet and as he grasped it in his hand he noted it felt pretty empty. Slim and unassuming, much like him. He worried the worn zipper between his fingers before unzipping it. Empty? How was there nothing? He was sure he’d had at least 50 bucks from last night. He was running through the possibilities in his head, maybe he’d spent it? He didn’t remember doing that, but to be honest he didn’t really remember anything. That’s just his luck, especially after how nice Hajime was, something had to balance it out.

Either way he was fucked. Even if he still had the £50, he was supposed to have at least £250, his daily ‘quota’ as it were. Junko really wouldn’t be happy, the possibilities swirled around in his head, if he was lucky he’d get away with just a slap on the wrist. He’d been good recently. Hadn’t he? It had been months since he’d last lost money or talked back, and he took punishments gratefully. He needed them. He deserved them. Didn’t he? He unwound his shaking hands from his hair, his breaths were short and shallow. Now he could feel his knees shaking and lungs burning. 

He leant back against the wall, letting his head thump against the concrete. His breathing gradually slowed as he stared at the little sliver of sky between towering buildings, it was bright and blue with little wispy clouds. The first thing he needed to do was get home, then he would deal with this.

He leant over to retrieve his wallet from where he had dropped it, the scuffed leather felt familiar as he stowed it back in his pocket. He retrieved his phone once again and managed to figure out how to get home, only swiping away one call in the process. He sighed and kicked off of the wall before turning onto a main street, getting lost within the crowds. 

Nagito tried to distract himself as he walked, an attempt to stop his mind from wandering to dark places. He started to daydream, as he always did. It was the same one he always conjured up so vividly. One of a better life, better than he deserved. He could almost feel the heavy books in his arms, smell the old paper. The cracked leather seat firm and comforting beneath him softened by throw cushions. He was fully saturated with warmth and a nice fragrant breeze was blowing through the room.

He missed reading, the heavy hardbacks he would drag down from the shelves, their leather gilded covers caked in dust. He would beg his parents to read them to him before he was old enough to do so himself. He remembers sitting in that soft, warm armchair in the corner of their library. His dog was heavy and warm on his lap as he leafed through pages upon pages for hours upon hours until his legs went numb. 

He didn’t have much time to read now, he hadn’t for years. Sometimes he wished he’d been able to save some of those books or, if he was feeling wistful, the whole library.

Nagito wondered if Hajime liked to read, he could imagine it now. Them curled up on the sofa, a fire crackling in the background as Hajime read aloud. His voice would be perfect for reading. He knew it would probably never happen but, he had to hold onto fantasies. What else did he have?

Hajime would eventually realise how annoying he was and give up. Everyone else did. He was convinced even his own parents grew tired of him before they passed. Everyone left him, by choice or not. Except for Junko. She took him in and cared for him when no one else would. Junko needed him so she couldn’t leave, Nagito was the one making the money, providing. In return, Junko protected him, complimented him, loved him. It was nice to feel needed, wanted. 

Nagito stood outside of the door to his flat. It was ugly. The plywood was painted in a glossy white that felt sticky to the touch. The little peephole was too high and the door always got stuck in hot weather as the wood swelled. What was behind the door wasn’t any better. The only way to describe Nagito’s apartment was sterile. 

It was perfectly passable but there were no homely touches. The only signs of life being the unmade bed and full sink, plates and cups precariously stacked. He wasn’t exactly expecting guests. The door swung inwards as he pushed it. The only sound was his hand peeling off of it, the hinges didn’t even creak. “Home sweet home” he mumbled as he stepped over the threshold. He would have a shower to collect himself and then call Junko and explain, it would be easier over the phone.

There was a sudden snap as the door was slammed shut behind him. Nagito let out a yelp and turned on his heel. He could feel the blood draining from his face as he saw Junko looming over him. He guessed there would be no time for a shower first. Her wide smile gleamed in the dim lighting, almost glowing, the same could be said for her eyes. One arm was outstretched to rest on the door. The other was loosely holding her phone as if she had just been texting and he had interrupted.

A heavy weight settled in Nagito’s stomach like a block of ice as Junko took a step closer, looming over him. 

“Where have you been my pretty bird?” Her voice was high and sweet, sickly and cloying like thick dark treacle. She reached a cold hand up to Nagito’s cheek, he shivered but leaned into the contact. 

“I uh, just went out for a walk” She couldn’t know where he really was, he wouldn’t let Hajime get hurt if he could avoid it. 

***************************************************

“Hmm? Did you really?” Junko reeled back, Nagito clenched his fists and stood firm eyes scrunched shut. The impact never came. Icy fingers traced his cheekbone. 

“Now, you know I don’t appreciate lying. Don’t make me the bad guy here” A frigid tendril worked its way down Nagito’s spine. The words stuck in his throat, like flies in a honey trap, he coughed a little. He knew Junko would catch him out, that woman sniffed out lies like a bloodhound.

“You know I care about you right?” Her thumb rubbed circles into his cheek, he fully expected to look in the mirror and see skin peeled back, blackened and frostbitten, in that spot. He muttered in agreement. “And I am ever so gracious” More muttering in agreement.  
” so.. I’ll let you get away with it. Just this once” Her smile was softer now, well not softer but less carnivorous, as her chest puffed up with pride. How generous she was being.

“Thank you so much, I promise it won’t happen again” Nagito grovelled as well as he could with his teeth chattering and a firm grip on his jaw. How could he have been so stupid? Curse his luck. This was all because he let himself get roped into staying the night and then brunch. A little part of him, a dying ember, thought ‘maybe it’s worth it. Maybe one day of joy is worth a week of pain’. A larger part of him knew he should keep that promise, terror flowed through his veins covered with a thin veneer of love and loyalty.

“You know what I came for right? I’m a busy gal” She glanced down at her phone to demonstrate and held out the other hand palm up, candy apple red acrylics tipped her fingers like claws drenched in blood. The empty wallet barely made a sound when he dropped it into her hand. Her fingers tightened around it like a vice. Nagito hung his head focusing on a strand of hair that swung in the edge of his vision. 

“Nothing?” Her voice hardened like ice and shattered into razor-sharp shards. “Where were you last night? I’ll bet you spent it all, huh?” She let out a grating chuckle, it sounded like it hurt her throat as he stepped even closer, her voice becoming teasing. She loomed over him, Nagito realised just how much the scales were not tipped in his favour, small, thin and weak, Junko was stronger than she looked. Her hand clawed tightly at Nagito’s jaw, lifting his face up forcing him to meet her eye to eye. 

“I bet you didn’t even charge, so desperate for attention you’ll do anything, you dirty fucking whore. Remember what I’ve done for you, I’m the one who keeps you safe, warm and fed. I dote on you and this is how I get treated?” She counted on his fingers as she listed her voice gradually raising in volume. She reeled back but this time she made contact, a loud smack reverberated in his ears making him dizzy. Junko grasped at his jaw again hard enough to bruise and dug her nails back into the site of impact causing little pinpoints of pain to blossom as they broke the skin. Rivulets of hot blood ran down his neck.

Her voice was deadly calm but it cut him all the same, filleted him open and hit every weak point he had. How could he have done this? She was right, he was just a whore. He took and took and took, draining others of their love and affection. He was supposed to be the provider, he got everything he wanted as long as he did as Junko said. It was better than he deserved. Better than he’d ever dreamed of as a ‘troubled youth’. When it was good it was really good and he held onto that, it made the bad times worth it.

Hot salty tears carved tracks down his face tinted pink with traces of blood. He would’ve sunk to his knees and begged for forgiveness had the grip on his face not been so tight. At every point of contact it felt like cracks were spreading out, consuming him, more broken than whole. He couldn’t respond. 

“You really have nothing to say huh?” He was roughly shoved to the floor, a loud thump echoed as his hip made contact with the cold, glossy tiles. He felt something thwap onto his cheek. More cracks branched out. “Guess I must be right” Junko wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then wiped his hands on her jacket as if touching Nagito left some kind of sticky residue on her. 

“Tell me why I should let this slide, beg for your life” The sinister grin returned, wider than ever and full of glee, sweet and saccharine. Nagito pulled himself up to face Junko, his knees on the tile, hands laid palm down in front of him. The cold seeped into him even further as the tiles leeched any warmth away from him at each point of contact. What could he say? Any apology would sound empty, he couldn’t justify himself. If Junko knew what really happened, who knew what she would do.

“I..I” He stuttered out. “I have no excuse, I accept my punishment” He hung his head, he couldn’t bear to see what was coming. Hopefully, obedience would soften the blow.

“Aww come on, you’ve taken all the fun out of it now” She paused, taking a breath. Nagito preemptively relaxed, would he get out of it this time? Was his luck turning around? “Don’t worry, you will accept your punishment” 

Searing heat flooded into the fingers of his left hand as cracks branched out from the heel of Junko’s stiletto as she ground it down after stamping on his entire hand. Grinding Nagito into dust. All he could do was gasp as the pain blinded him, he couldn’t even scream. The door slammed and he was entirely alone, slumped on the tiles cradling his hand. The only sound was the quiet dripping of liquid hitting ceramic and laboured breathing. Laughter echoing in his head, sickly sweet melting all his thoughts together into a giant mass of anguish.

**************************************************************************

He desperately pressed his hand against the tiles hoping it would absorb the hot pain that clung to him up to the wrist. It was like he had dipped his hand in molten sugar. He stumbled to his feet, the misdirected momentum hurtling him into the kitchen countertop. Nagito steadied himself against it, leaning his entire weight onto his right side. He braced his left arm across his chest, the less he moved it the better. More injuries, great. 

He guessed Hajime’s hard work had gone to waste. He could almost see him now, fumbling a little with the first aid kit. He would bandage him up with warm steady hands and press gentle kisses to his knuckles. Why was he thinking about this guy so much? Maybe it's because he’s the last person he shared an actual conversation with. Or maybe it’s because he’s still wearing his hoodie. He really should text him. He had said he would so he had to stick to it. The fearful part of him grew smaller, consumed by the embers fanned to a flame by his suffering. He was still hesitant, if this is what he got for no money what would he get for this? If Junko found out about Hajime it wouldn’t just be him that got hurt.

Okay, the one thing he knew he needed to do was fix up his hand, that was for sure. Nagito shuffled over to the table in the corner of the room, first aid kit in hand. He examined his fingers, none of them were bent at funny angles or had visible bone poking through. But his pointer finger was off. It was swollen, stiff and bleeding. He tried to wiggle it a little, there definitely should not be more than two joints. It seemed like that was the only one that was broken. The others were just bruised. Red tinged with purple danced down each finger from tip to knuckle and he was sure his jaw looked the same. He used medical tape to bind his pointer finger to his middle finger after gingerly bandaging it. He used 5 small round plasters for his jaw, thankfully the wounds were only shallow there. He popped a few painkillers and called it a day.

He should shower but he really didn’t think he could muster the energy. But at the same time the warmth would be nice and he was pretty sure some blood was still crusted in his hair. He still had to work tonight too. He checked his phone, it was only 4:00, he had some time.

Showering was never as nice as he thought it would be. It was always slightly too cramped and the shower pressure was never quite right. It was made significantly worse by the fact that he was dotted with various injuries, getting hit by a car sure gave you a crick in the neck and various other things. 

His torso, arms, legs pretty much everywhere was mottled with a rainbow of colours, he was lucky it was mostly bruising. His arms were the best off, the bruising there wasn’t too visible. He had to keep his left hand still and out of the water, so washing his hair was certainly a challenging experience. His head wound hadn’t healed as fast as he thought it would the moment he tried to remove it the wound resumed pissing blood. He frantically applied a new dressing and tried his best to keep it dry but it wasn’t that easy. He had to apply another one after, as well as new plasters on his jaw.

The hot water soothed some of his aches and pains, loosening his tense muscles. By the time he got out he felt like jelly. He dressed quickly once he was out, or as quickly as he could with one hand. He pulled Hajime’s hoodie back on, somehow it was the warmest thing he owned right now. He’d have to wash it before he returned it. 

The warmth continued to fill him as he sat down to eat his microwave ‘meal for one’. Nagito never had been much good at cooking and now he barely had the time. He was just so clumsy in the kitchen, always ending up burning something (or himself). It’s not like anyone ever took the time to teach him and now his life was just an endless cycle of sleep, work, see Junko, repeat. He got one night off a week, which was usually spent catching up on the chores he had neglected over the week. 

He pulled out his phone as he ate the tasteless mush, brunch had been so much better with no flaccid bacon in sight. He opened Hajime’s contact and stared at it, reading the name over and over, ingraining it into his retinas. His finger hovered over the text button. Would it be right to do it? It tasted like betrayal to him but sometimes betrayal is the right thing to do. He should just go with something simple and informative but friendly.

To Hajime:  
Hey, this is Nagito. Thank you so much for everything, I do apologise.

He retyped and deleted the message about a million times before tentatively clicking send, better to just get it over with. He stared at the message. Waiting. Hoping for a reply. What if he had the wrong number? What if Hajime was just trying to be polite and didn’t actually expect him to text? ‘What ifs’ swirled around his head, fearing he had made a massive mistake. He wrung his hands out, the sudden jolt of pain that ensued centred him. He walked over to his freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas to put on his hand. Frozen peas were cheaper and less suspicious than walking into a shop and buying massive amounts of ice packs.

He heard his phone vibrate and almost vaulted over a counter, he definitely would have if not for his injuries. Instead, he scrambled around the counter and flung himself into the chair. A single notification was visible.

From Hajime:  
Hey Nagito its so nice to hear from you hope youre doing okay :)

He couldn’t reply straight away, that would be too desperate. He didn’t want to seem like he had been waiting for it. That might scare him off, right? That's how people worked. He could at least restrain himself until he got into bed. That's when the second message came in. When he was curled up in bed on his side in bed smothered in blankets, surrounded by pillows. It was the only place he spent any substantial amount of time in his flat so he wanted it to be as comfortable as possible. He very nearly dropped his phone as it lit up and vibrated in his hand.

From Hajime:  
We should go for coffee you can return my hoodie then too :p

To Hajime:  
That would be lovely, I’m free tomorrow actually if that works?

From Hajime:  
Yeah im off work too i know a nice cafe ill send you the location tomorrow :D

To Hajime:  
I can’t wait. :)

It was true, he couldn’t. Thank God for convenient days off. It put a smile on his face, maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad, maybe he wouldn’t be so cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: Junko realises Nagito is lying and becomes enraged but lets it slide until she realises he has no money. She becomes aggressive and manipulates him by saying how much he owes her. She gives him various injuries including stomping on his hand before leaving.
> 
> I did some very questionable research for this one, I realised very quickly I knew very little about prostitution.


	4. Cat got your tongue?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t awkward at all. Hajime took a long pull from the straw of his drink, this man had been in his bed he could at least manage to hold a conversation with him. He did seem a lot different now, more nervous and subdued. He guessed everyone had a work persona, to put it one way.
> 
> Did going to a cat cafe with your 'boyfriend' count as a date? Hajime hoped it did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter absolutely kicked my ass. I only finished it last night for 3 reasons: writer's block, migraine and I started playing persona 5 and ace attorney.
> 
> I'm pretty happy with how this turned out, some fluff to make up for the last chapter. This one is a lot longer than originally planned so I hope y'all enjoy it. ≧◡≦

Nagito paused outside of the cafe to take it in for a moment. It was a small homely looking building painted a deep warm brown that was beginning to chip on the corners with big windows out front. Somewhere he never would have ordinarily noticed, unassuming. 

Above the door, the name was painted “Catpuccino” in a gentle cream patched with oranges and browns. Through the windows, he could see big cushy armchairs in muted yellows and greens and… Were those cats? Now the name made more sense. They were draped over armchairs, sunning themselves by the windows or nuzzling customers for scraps. 

He knew he was already late, nothing much he could do about that. But what he could do something about was his appearance. As guilty as he felt for keeping Hajime waiting longer wanted to check if he was presentable. He examined his face in the phone camera. 

God, he was pale, it was probably the lack of sunlight. He tilted his jaw up to check how the concealer was holding up, he really didn’t want to have to explain the bruises to Hajime. His hair was a lost cause, it was still pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck from his shower that morning. Little strands had started to come loose and swayed about his face. 

He decided he looked passable. Nagito dusted himself off and pushed open the door, the less he thought about it the better. A bell tinkled and some of the cats cocked their heads over at him as he stepped over the threshold. It smelled pleasantly of freshly baked goods and hot coffee, in a soft sort of way.

He lingered a little in the doorway, unsure of what to do. He glanced around searching for that familiar spiky haircut. Where was he? Suddenly Hajime stuck his head out from behind some rather large foliage and waved him over, no wonder he hadn’t spotted him.

He cleaned up well, not that he didn’t look good the last time he had seen him. He was wearing a deep muted green v-neck jumper that hugged him in a way Nagito wished he could. It suited him, he looked soft and the green brought out his eyes. It was definitely his colour he thought as he took a seat.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

“Huh?” he slurred out, wildly flinging his arm out of his blanket cocoon to rummage for his phone. Nagito was pretty sure he hadn’t set an alarm today. He blinked at the bright screen, taking a moment to adjust. He could see two notifications at the top of his screen. He must’ve forgotten to mute his phone last night. 

They were probably some stupid spam emails or something. Either that or it was Junko apologising. No, she would probably call him for that. He was about to swipe them away but paused for a second… Hajime had responded! Nagito fumbled a little, almost dropping the phone in his haste to unlock it.

**From Hajime:**

**hey this is the place -- >** **Catpuccino**

**From Hajime:**

**i was thinking 130 :)**

That was right, he’d said he would text him the location later. He looked at the time, it was only 10, he could do 13:30. He tried to type “That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” But his fingers slipped on the screen, he scrubbed it against his trousers and attempted again. 

That was one of the worst parts about going on his phone under the blankets, the screen always got fogged up and slippery with his condensed breath. His options were to A) freeze, B) wipe his screen off every 5 seconds or C) not breathe. Wiping off his screen an excessive amount seemed like the best option at the moment but not breathing was a close second.

**To Hajime:**

**That sounds great, I’ll see you then.**

Was that too formal? Maybe he should have used an emoji.

**To Hajime:**

**:D**

He should check out where this cafe was, for all he knew it could be 10 miles away, though he didn’t know why Hajime would pick somewhere that far away. It seemed like it would only take him around 15 minutes to walk there meaning he could lay in bed for a little longer. He could treat himself a little bit before facing the icy wasteland that was his apartment in the mornings. 

Nagito knew he should try and get some chores done before he went out today. He curled in on himself even tighter, knees touching his chin. He could feel himself sinking into the mattress, some days he wished it would just swallow him. But not today fucko. Today he had a fake boyfriend to see and he couldn’t disappoint. He really owed Hajime this favour after everything. Although it felt more like Hajime was the one doing him a favour. 

God he really didn’t want to get up, maybe he could just lay there a bit longer. His body did not agree. If he didn’t have to pee he could’ve gone back to sleep, ugh seriously. He took in a deep breath and steeled himself for the dramatic temperature change. Better to do it all at once like ripping off a plaster.

He yanked back the covers and physically flinched at the disparate temperatures. Maybe it was time he started wearing long sleeves to bed and maybe gloves. He darted across the room to the heating dial and cranked it right up to 20. He could let it warm up a little before turning it down again. Never before had he wished more for a timer on his heating, except for every other morning he got up. Minus summer, his apartment was a blessing in summer. 

Nagito tried to get into the shower as fast as physically possible, gathering up an outfit as he went. He didn’t really have many warmer outfits as he didn’t often have opportunities to wear them. His wardrobe mostly consisted of skinny jeans and t-shirts to “show off his physique” as Junko said. 

The shower was as hot as he could physically make it. He scraped his hair back into a ponytail beforehand, no point washing it again. He hummed the song stuck in his head, what was it? Something about Kanye west and fingers. 

Today was one of those days where he was glad he’d invested in a non-slip bath mat, the number of times he had slipped over in the shower wasn't even funny. Without it today may have also been one of those days because all he needed right now were more bruises. 

This was probably the worst it had been, minus that time he broke his nose, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. He shook his head to dispel those thoughts and shut off the water. He scrambled to dry himself and dress as quickly as possible, fuck was it cold. 

Nagito used his sleeve to wipe off the fogged up mirror while he brushed his teeth. He looked at the fuzzed-out version of himself, all long limbs, no colour. He looked like an albino spider. The green and red jumper he wore swamped his lithe frame, while the black jeans he wore clung to it. Maybe he should buy some different trousers, he was pretty sure black jeans were all he had. 

There was no point, why did he need new clothes anyway? It’s not like he was going anywhere, no amount of fancy clothes would hide how rotten he was inside. Fancy clothes wouldn’t stop people from leaving him or hating him aaaand he was spiralling. He dug his nails into his palm. He could at least finish brushing his teeth, or was he really that useless? 

He should keep himself busy. Nagito began to compile a mental to-do list. First things first he needed to put Hajime’s hoodie in the wash. It was a shame he had to give it back. It was a gentle blue like the sky on a cloudless day and, ironically, as soft as a cloud. 

He tossed it into the machine and set it for a regular wash and dry cycle. He’d even dug out that fancy strawberry-scented fabric conditioner. He used it sparingly, usually for his bedsheets. Nothing was nicer than getting into a bed that smelled like fresh strawberries. It’s weird how supermarket strawberries don’t have a scent, if you pick them fresh they have a very strong sweet smell, especially in summer.

The washing machine rattled to life as he walked away, over to the fridge to grab an energy drink before heading back into the bathroom. He opened the cabinet above the sink and fished out a small makeup bag. It was just a few essentials: concealer, colour corrector, powder etc. He looked at the bruises on his chin and got to work while he sipped from his beverage. 

The bleeding had stopped pretty quickly, the cuts were only shallow and thankfully it wasn't too swollen. It was however red and purple in the shape of fingers. He really didn’t want Hajime to worry. He had to have a very light touch and, much like everything else, it was a lot harder with only one hand. He could use his left hand but only sparingly.

He tilted his head to the side to admire his handiwork. Unless someone knew what they were looking for they probably wouldn’t notice. He stifled a yawn, god he did not get enough sleep. But he was up now, what did it matter that he had only gotten in at 6. Maybe he should put some concealer under his eyes too. He set it with a little powder and packed the emergency makeup bag back into the cupboard.

He checked his phone, it was only half 11. He still had over an hour till he had to meet Hajime. As much as he would like to stare at the time until then it wouldn’t help, he had chores to do and he doubted he could sit still for that long anyway. 

The mountain of washing up in his sink would have to go first, it was an eyesore. With his sleeves pushed up and sink run he got to work. It would be helpful to get a dishwasher, or maybe use paper plates. He very rarely had the energy to wash up during the week. Today he could practically feel his bones vibrating. It was kind of calming, methodically, repetitively cleaning and drying each plate or cup before placing it into a cupboard.

He wiped down the sides and swept the floor almost on autopilot before moving on to strip his bed. He had just bundled up the sheets to carry them to the washer when a beep startled him out of his cleaning stupor. That must be the hoodie. Wait… what time was it? Nagito pulled out his phone, the time read 12:44. Ah motherfucker he needed to leave. He really couldn’t do anything right, he was going to be late now. 

He grabbed Hajime’s hoodie, still warm from the dryer and quickly darted back into the bathroom. He placed it on the sink before lifting the lid off the back of the toilet. He pulled out a slightly soggy but thankfully airtight Tupperware. He fumbled a little in his haste, almost dropping it, that seemed to be happening a lot recently. 

He retrieved a wad of cash, it was a little cliche but the toilet tank was a good hiding place. He’d squirrelled away a decent amount over the years, sometimes Junko liked to treat him if he was good. He never really spent it, what would he spend it on in the first place?

He wasn’t even really sure why he was hoarding it away, not on any conscious level at least. But hey, it came in handy for times like this. He shoved a couple of twenties in his pocket before placing everything back how it was.

He rammed his feet into his shoes and grabbed a black coat on his way out the door before striding out of his apartment. Hopefully, he could make up for lost time if he walked fast, google maps was never accurate anyway. He was gay and caffeinated, 15 minutes? Pfft, he could do it in 10.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Hajime sipped on an iced drink despite the cooling temperatures outside, autumn could suck it. He opened the texts on his phone again.

**From Nagito ♥‿♥:**

**That sounds great, I’ll see you then.**

**From Nagito ♥‿♥:**

**:D**

He was probably just running late, it was probably the first time he had visited this cafe, it was only natural he would take a while. It didn’t stop him from getting worried though. He didn’t want to look too needy by texting him now.

Bring, bring. Hajime glanced up towards the door of the cafe, the bell alerting him that someone had entered. He was seated on a low sofa in the back corner of the cafe, slightly hidden by a large potted plant. He could however very clearly see the door.

What he saw was exactly what he was hoping for. Nagito had his hands tucked into his long sleeves as he toyed his lip between his teeth and glanced around nervously, pale eyes darting back and forth. He should probably stand up and wave him over no matter how cute it was to watch him squirm.

“Hey, over here” He leant out and waved at Nagito who promptly scurried over and sat down across from him. He completely sank down into the cushy armchair. “Sorry for being late. I got distracted” He sounded out of breath and looked mildly distressed as he wound a strand of hair around his finger.

Hajime attempted to reassure him a bit “Oh it’s not a problem, I got here early.” Well, now he looked more distressed. They lapsed back into silence.

This wasn’t awkward at all. Hajime took a long pull from the straw of his drink, this man had been in his bed he could at least manage to hold a conversation with him. He did seem a lot different now, more nervous and subdued. He guessed everyone had a work persona, to put it one way.

“So, uh we should order. I already know what I’m getting, pretty much everything’s good here”

“I’ll just take your recommendation then, I’m sure you have better taste than me anyway”

Okay well not off to a great start, what kind of thing would Nagito like? Hajime knew he had boring taste, he always just ordered the soup of the day and an orange iced tea. He surveyed the display case finger poised over his lips as he contemplated… He called the cashier over to order before walking back over towards their table.

He paused about a foot away. Nagito was bathed in the midday sun, bright and warm as a brown tabby very persistently headbutted his leg. He seemed taken by surprise as he leant down to pet it, weaving his fingers into its fur.

“Seems like you’ve made a new friend,” Hajime said as he approached the table. Nagito snapped his head up making eye contact. 

“I..uh..yeah”

“Sorry I didn't mean to make you jump”

“No it’s okay, I…” he trailed off as the cat leapt up into his lap, he let out a little oomph. Hajime tried to stifle a chuckle as he took his seat. 

“Here’s your hoodie back, I washed it don’t worry” He placed the hoodie on the table, it looked like he wanted to say more.

“Thanks, I wasn’t serious about that by the way. Why don’t you just hold onto it? I don’t wear it much anyway” Nagito honestly looked reluctant to give it back and he looked pretty cute in it yesterday. He most definitely did wear it a lot but it felt a little too forward to say ‘oh it looks better on you’. That’s at least second date material if this even was a date. He hoped it was.

“I..well..” Nagito stuttered out before lapsing into silence.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He couldn’t help it, a smirk spread across his face as he tried to suppress his laughter. Laughing at his own joke was a little lame. Nagito groaned and looked at him in a way that said ‘I thought you were better than this’. At least he’d broken the tension.

“They should bring our order over in a minute”..... Speak of the devil. Just as Hajime said that a waitress came over carrying an extravagant looking hot chocolate topped with a little cream and marshmallow cat.

“The rest of your order will be over in a minute,” she said politely.

“Thank you” Hajime and Nagito responded almost perfectly in sync. They met eyes over their drinks and Nagito hid a smile in his palm. Wait what was up with his hand? Hajime hadn’t really paid it much thought but he had purposely been hiding his left hand up until now. It was bandaged and bruised, that looked really nasty and he was pretty sure it wasn’t from hitting him with his car.

Nagito quickly realised his mistake and tried to play it off, hiding his hand back beneath the table. He began intently petting the cat that had settled in his lap.

“Thank you for ordering, I figured you would know best” A tight smile was plastered on his face when he looked back up.

“Hey what happened to your hand?” Hajime persisted.

“Oh, that? I just caught my hand in the door, I don’t know why you would worry about trash like me anyway. You shouldn’t w-” He abruptly paused as Hajime plucked the large marshmallow off of his drink and shoved it into his mouth. His goal had been to shut him up and boy had it been effective.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that. If you were trash I wouldn’t have invited you out. I’m just worried about you...As a friend” he quickly tacked onto the end.

Nagito chewed on the marshmallow looking absolutely baffled. He looked so utterly confused that Hajime wanted to laugh again but he steeled himself trying to look comforting but stern. Like he was scolding a child. 

He swallowed and immediately opened his mouth to speak again, Hajime raised an eyebrow at him and he faltered. “I really wanted to take a picture of that” his voice was so soft he barely heard it. 

“Oh”.... "Sorry” Hajime stumbled out sheepishly. Maybe that had been a bit presumptuous of him, though his other idea was even more so. 

“I promise though I’m okay, I really did just shut my hand in the door” It didn’t even sound like Nagito believed it. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it though so Hajime didn’t push, no matter how much he wanted to.

At this point, the same waitress came by with their meals, what was it with these guys and convenient timing. She placed the soup in front of Hajime and a filled rainbow bagel in front of Nagito followed by a plate of calico cat cookies in the centre of the table.

Hajime scooped up a heaping spoonful of soup and delivered it to his mouth. Oh boy. He had made an irreparable mistake, he’d seen a field of whoopsie daisies and said ‘I’ll take the lot’. It felt like he was holding molten lava in his mouth.

Nagito swallowed what he was chewing before inquiring “Are you okay Hajime? You look a little...Pained” He cocked his head and looked at him earnestly.

He nodded and mhm-ed while attempting to swallow. Normally he would hfashafsha his way through hot food but this was soup and he was on a date. He didn’t think dribbling soup down his shirt would gain him any points. 

“Has the cat got your tongue now?” Nagito innocently blinked up at him over his drink. He knew exactly what he was doing. He opened his mouth to speak, nope he needed a cold drink. Caught his tongue? It felt like the cat had damn near ripped it off.

After aggressively sipping from his drink he looked over to see Nagito laughing at him. “So, how’s your soup?”

“Just lovely, how’s your bagel?” He could play it off, right? At least Nagito was laughing, he looked a lot better when he was laughing. It was like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. It was concerning how quickly he could slip the mask on and off.

“Delicious, the hot chocolate is great too” He swiped some cream off of the top of his drink and lapped it off of his finger to emphasise.

Dammit Hajime, don’t get distracted. He’s just enjoying his drink, no ulterior motives. There was something he’d been meaning to bring up, what was it?..... Oh yeah, details. If they were going to keep up this fake dating they probably needed to know a decent amount about each other, making it up on the spot would only work for a limited time. Yup, that was definitely his motive for wanting to know Nagito’s personal information. No other reason.

“So, we should probably straighten out some details” God that sounded way too formal. Nagito perked up, he really had that cute head tilt down to a tee. Did he even realise he did it?

“I-I mean if we’re going to keep up this fake dating then we should know certain things about each other, right?” 

“Hmm, I guess. You could just say we broke up though. I don’t want to make you spend more time with me than necessary” He almost sounded a little disappointed. Saying they broke up would make much more sense, too much sense. 

“It would seem a bit suspicious to my friends if I had a secret boyfriend that I broke up with the moment they found out he existed, wouldn’t it?” Yes! Defeat his common sense with convoluted nonsensical reasoning. 

“Oh yeah, that does make sense” Nagito was either extremely gullible or he wanted to spend more time with Hajime too. He hoped it was the second option, all evidence pointed to yes. But clearly, Hajime’s deductive reasoning wasn’t the tightest.

“I’ll go first. I’m an only child, I don’t really talk to my family that much, and I work at a call centre selling insurance. I’m 22, born on the 1st of January and uh..huh? It’s really hard to just list stuff about yourself” Was there anything else? He didn’t really have any hobbies other than hanging out with his friends. God, he sounded so boring.

“Maybe listing isn’t the best way, there’s no way we could remember everything like that” Nagito interrupted tapping his finger on his chin. Dammit, why did he have to always be right? 

“Yeah, you’re probably right” Hajime deflated a little. “So what do you like to do in your free time? God this sounds like a job interview doesn’t it”

“Just a tad” He held up his pointer and thumb close to each other to demonstrate. Nagito just liked to talk with his hands a lot... Well...Hand.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Nagito desperately tried to inhale between laughter, his cheeks felt fuzzy at the lack of oxygen. “Wait so you’re telling me you had to physically restrain Shuichi because he thought Makoto was cheating at Cluedo? I’d never take him for that type”

“Uh Huh. Cluedo is banned in our apartment now, I thought he was going to commit a felony. Wii tennis too, I’m pretty sure my hand never healed after how hard Shuichi accidentally hit me. He gets way too into it.” Hajime ran a hand through his hair and deeply inhaled, he was red in the face from laughing too.

“Ah excuse me, I’m so sorry to disturb you but we’re actually closing now.” A Waitress notified them. Nagito looked around, they were the only ones there and it was already dark outside. Had they really stayed that long?

“Oh sorry, we’ll be on our way” He managed to sound at least partly composed as he gathered his things, shucking back on his jacket. He really didn’t want to leave, this was the most fun he had had in ages. Maybe Hajime felt the same? His life sounded so much more lively than his so it was highly unlikely. But it really seemed that Hajime liked him for him, he laughed at his jokes and listened intently to his little anecdotes.

They stood outside the cafe underneath the glow of a streetlight as they said their goodbyes. Both of them lingered a little too long, Hajime was slightly shorter than him but he was so much more substantial and present, warm and solid. His green eyes were so focused as if he was staring through him. It made Nagito feel like a ghost, drifting unseen through life. Hajime saw him though, that's what it felt like his eyes were saying. He was probably just projecting.

“I guess I’d better head home now,” Nagito said reluctantly.

“Yeah me too. Text me when you get home?” He had a hopeful lilt to his voice, it was a statement phrased as a question.

Nagito nodded enthusiastically as they parted ways, the blue hoodie tucked under one arm. He couldn’t wait to get back home now. Oh fuck, he’d never washed those sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact the wii tennis thing is a rule in my house after an incident ending in both my mum and I getting injured.  
> I struggled so much with the dialogue in this, generally, the dialogue is my weak point, it's just so painful. I originally planned to have this completely from Nagito's POV but it felt a bit more dynamic to switch them around a bit.  
> I'm generally going to try and balance out the angst and fluff. I also now actually have a plot overview which should help.  
> Let me know what you thought, I try to reply to comments as fast as possible.


	5. Since when did we have custard?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He glanced at the computer screen in front of him, it read 13:47. Thank fuck, only like uhhhh… well he knew it was less than 20 minutes till lunch and that was all he needed to know.
> 
> Hajime actually goes to his shitty office job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "a cup of cum a day keeps the covid away, aged like a fine wine" is a comment my beta reader left on this fic so take that as you will.
> 
> This chapter has a lot more Shuichi than planned. I see Hajime, Makoto, and Shuichi having almost a sibling relationship. I should also specify, Shuichi is in college and Makoto is a lawyer.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: mentioned emotional manipulation. It's just after the last line break.

Ugh. Hajime seriously needed a coffee. He thought he’d heard the kettle go off not long ago so hopefully, the water was still hot, or better yet, someone had made him coffee already. That would be the dream. He dragged himself out of bed and traipsed over to his door to grab a hoodie. He fumbled blindly a bit, realising very quickly that the hook on the back of his door was empty. Oh wait that was right, Nagito still had it. It was pretty warm in the apartment so he should be okay in just his t-shirt, the benefits of never being the first person up.

Hajime made a beeline for the kitchen, completely bypassing Shuichi who was eating what might’ve been a bowl of cereal. You never know with him and Hajime didn’t particularly want to. “Yes!” He hissed out, the kettle was still hot. He made himself his usual black coffee with generous sugar and slid some bread into the toaster. 

Threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table with his generously jammed toast across from Shuichi. “Don’t you have an 8 am today?” Hajime asked around a mouthful of toast, if he did he was most definitely late.

“I have a 10 am today, my 8 am classes are always on Wednesday” He stated matter of factly. He thought it  _ was _ Wednesday, it must not be.

“Wait what day is it?”

“It’s Thursday, are you okay?”

“Uhh yeah, yeah I’ve just had a really hectic week.” Shuichi didn’t look that convinced, he just quirked an eyebrow and took another spoonful of… was that bananas and custard? Honestly not that weird, dammit now Hajime regretted having toast.

“Since when do we have custard?”

“We don't” He responded completely deadpan, not even glancing up. What??? Was he joking or serious? Hajime opened his mouth a couple of times trying to think up a response but gave up very quickly. It wasn’t worth it, he should just change the subject. 

“It’s like quarter past 9. Aren’t you gonna be late, or is Makoto giving you a lift? You won’t get one off me, not after last time” It had taken nearly 3 days for him to get the smell of that stink bomb out of his car.

“Hey! That wasn’t me, and you know it” He blurted out indignantly. “Makoto already left anyway, something about going into court early” He gestured with his spoon flecking custard (?) on the table. Ah, that made sense.

“Still not giving you a lift” Hajime taunted, crossing his arms and pulling a smug face. He would if he had to. It’s not like they’d do anything if he was late for work and he didn’t care that much anyway.

“Bold of you to assume I’m asking for one. Kaito just got his license so he’s giving me a lift” Now he was the one who looked smug.

“Oooh is he really?” Hajime waggled his eyebrows aggressively. It was a running joke to tease Shuichi about Kaito or any of his friends for that matter, Kaito just got the most reaction. Hajime did it at least and it never ceased to bring him joy. As usual, Shuichi went bright red and spluttered a bit before ducking his head down.

“D-don't you have to get to work?!” He stuttered triumphantly. Hajime glanced at the microwave clock over his shoulder, it read 9:30. “Fuck!” It took him about 15 minutes to drive there and he still had to park. Okay so maybe he did care about being late. Shuichi erupted in laughter as he scrambled out of his seat to start getting ready. 

Hajime skidded into his bedroom as he gripped the frame and swung himself around it. He yelled over his shoulder to the living area where Shuichi was laughing his ass off. “I’m not the only one who’s gonna be late!” before slamming his door. The smirk quickly fell off of Shuichi’s face in realisation as he too scrambled to get ready.

Shuichi had already claimed the bathroom. Thankfully, Hajime preferred to shower at night, it gave him more time. Nothing was better than having a long, hot, relaxing shower after work  _ and _ someone was less likely to run the tap. He didn’t have a set schedule anyway, since he worked shifts, so showering at night guaranteed the bathroom would always be free.

Hajime scrounged his room for a shirt and a pair of jeans. How could everything be dirty? He really needed to do laundry after work. This happened every week, he’d leave the laundry to the last minute and run out of clothes. He’d just have to wear what he wore yesterday. It was that or he asked Shuichi to borrow something and he didn’t much feel like joining the black parade today.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

“Ah well I do apologise but we actually don't insure that specific brand” Hajime tried to pacify the customer, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Well, I don’t understand why you….

Hajime started zoning out whenever customers took that tone of voice, better to let them tire themselves out. All he had to do was make noises like he was listening every now and again until they stopped or hung up. Either one was good. 

This morning had been a pain, he’d barely made it in time. This happened every time he had to work an early shift. Not that 10 am was particularly early but it was early for him compared to the hours he usually worked. He glanced at the computer screen in front of him, it read 13:47. Thank fuck, only like uhhhh… well he knew it was less than 20 minutes till lunch and that was all he needed to know.

Work, as usual, had been mind-numbingly boring. They’d introduced the no phones rule recently too so Hajime spent a lot of time staring blankly into space or stopping his co-workers from doing something idiotic enough to get themselves fired. That was if he was slightly less bored, right now he’d take any distraction. The only notable thing to happen this morning was Kazuichi attempting to see how fast he could spin on his chair. The answer was fast enough to launch himself off of it and onto the floor.

The familiar chime rang in Hajime’s ears notifying him that the customer had finally hung up. To be honest he wasn’t far off of hanging up himself. People really had no respect for customer service. He glanced back at the clock. 13:50 so only 10 minutes left, he could at least do basic maths. But the real question was: Could he last that long?

He had pretty much non-stop calls from that point on, even managed to make some sales. At least it made the time go fast and before he knew it it was already lunch. Meaning he was getting dragged out to some cafe. It was Kazuichi’s turn to choose where they went for lunch this week and Hajime already knew where he would choose.

He was obsessed with this one barista, Sonia. They went to school together and Kazuichi just had a thing for her, despite being turned down numerous times. Hajime was also pretty sure she was seeing someone. But still, every time it was his turn to pick lunch he insisted on going to that cafe, at least it was good. Hajime would admit that much, and he could definitely do with another coffee.

Sometimes they managed to drag the entire team out for lunch but it was usually just Kazuichi, Hajime, and Chiaki. It’s a lot easier to seat 3 people than 8. As usual, the moment they sat down Kazuichi insisted on ordering for them, Hajime just let him at this point, there was no point arguing with him. At first, he’d felt a little bad seeing him get shot down by Sonia but he held no sympathy after about the 3rd time. Some people need to learn when to quit. 

Kazuichi interrupted Hajime and Chiaki chatting as he dramatically threw himself into his chair after placing the tray with their order on the table. Hajime offered Sonia an apologetic look but she just waved him off and got back to work. Kaz sulked for a bit while the others dug into their food but bounced back pretty quickly. He had to with how often this happened.

“Did you see me go off that chair, I’m pretty sure I've got carpet burn on my hands now!” He thrust them in Hajime’s face to demonstrate.

“Maybe you should’ve held onto it tighter,” Chiaki chimed in, Kazuichi nodded solemnly looking like he wanted to take notes. Maybe just don't spin on the chair in the first place? That would work too, he felt like a parent with none of the benefits. Wait, what were the benefits?

Hajime zoned out a bit as Chiaki talked about the new game she’d been playing, Hajime wasn’t much of a gamer himself but it was definitely interesting to listen to someone talk about what they were passionate about. Maybe next time he saw Nagito he could get him to ramble like that. 

Oh fuck, speaking of Nagito. Hajime jolted upright and fumbled for his phone. Nagito had never texted him last night, was he okay? He’d probably just forgotten, right? He should text him and check anyway.

“Whoa, earth to Hajime. What are you doing?” Kazuichi snapped his fingers at him.

“Huh? Oh, I just remembered I forgot to respond to a text” Hajime mumbled while still typing out a message.

“What text could be so urgent?” Chiaki questioned, trying to peer at his screen.

“I bet he’s texting a girl,” Kazuichi stage whispered conspiratorially to Chiaki behind his hand. ”How come you never told us you were seeing someone?” he teased.

Hajime could feel his face heat up as he was called out “I-uh-I” he managed to stumble out, shrinking in his chair.

“Wait are you really?!” Kaz blurted incredulously, almost jumping out of his chair.

Chiaki stared at him in questioning silence while Kazuichi pestered him with endless questions about the ‘girl’ he was seeing. Hajime tried to regain some semblance of composure, how did he explain this? On one hand, it would be easiest to feed them the same lie that he fed Makoto and Shuichi. But on the other hand, it might be nice to have some accomplices.

“Hey hold on, am I allowed to speak?” 

Kazuichi closed his mouth with great difficulty. Chiaki sat there patiently as she had been the entire time, or was she dozing off? It was hard to tell.

“Yes I kinda have started seeing someone”

Kazuichi immediately began his barrage of questions again.

“But!” Hajime tried to sound authoritative, “we’ve only been out once. Yesterday”

“That’s why you said we couldn’t come over and play Mario kart” Kazuichi smacked the table for emphasis making the drinks wobble and clatter. The liquid sloshed dangerously close to the top. If he knocked a cup over this time Hajime would sue, he picked his own drink up off of the table just to be safe.

“No, I said no to that because last time you cried when you lost” he dismissed.

“Yeah, only coz Chiaki was cheating” Kazuichi tried to insist. Why did he even try anymore? No one could win against Chiaki.

“Just because you suck at Mario Kart doesn’t mean I was cheating” Chiaki chimed in, Kazuichi spluttered a bit before she silenced him with a glance that carried the threat of a rematch. She gestured at Hajime to go on. Did he have to? He was hoping they’d get sidetracked by Mario Kart.

“Well see we’re not actually dating… It’s kind of a long story” Hajime fiddled with the zip on his jacket.

Chiaki glanced down at her phone and tutted. “We’ve got 25 minutes till our lunch break ends, is that long enough?” She looked up completely sincerely. Hajime squirmed under her gaze, no way was he getting out of this. He heaved a deep breath in preparation.

“You have to promise to keep your mouth shut about this” He pointed at Kazuichi.

“Hey! Why are you singling me out!” He cried in indignation, throwing his hands up. Hajime narrowed his eyes at him. He scoffed before nodding.

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

It honestly hadn’t taken that long to explain the situation with Nagito. He didn’t know why he thought it would, they’d only met 2 days ago, it wasn’t like they had a long history or anything. Though Kazuichi freaking out took up a decent amount of time. Chiaki didn’t seem that shocked and he wasn’t sure whether that said more about her or him.

“Hold on what was his name again?” Kazuichi rubbed at his face.

“Nagito Komaeda” Hajime stated for what felt like the hundredth time.

“I know I recognise it, I just can’t place it.” He threw himself back in his chair in defeat. “Ringing any bells for you Chiaki?” he poked his head up a little.

“Kinda” She wiggled her hand in midair. “I know, do you have a photo of him?”    
  


“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea” Kazuichi leant forwards hands on knees while nodding solemnly.

“It would be if I had one.” Hajime snapped “why would I be randomly snapping pictures of this guy? I’m not a stalker unlike  _ some _ people” He stared directly at Kaz who promptly began to protest in outrage before Chiaki started speaking again, interrupting his babbling.

“Well, what does he look like? Any defining features?”

“What are you? A police sketch artist?” Hajime tried to deflect the question. He didn’t trust himself to answer in a normal way, and right after he’d said he wasn’t a stalker. “No uh, he has like really fluffy white hair and pale green eyes. Overall he’s pretty pale” He trailed off. It was the most neutral description he could give. He didn’t want to give away just how much he liked Nagito yet. It had been two days, he really didn’t want to come off as clingy. Especially after ribbing on Kazuichi.

Chiaki scrunched up her face in thought. Hajime could pinpoint the exact moment she made a connection, it was like a light bulb appeared above her head. “Hold on. Wasn’t he in our class for a bit?”

“Oh yeah, he was the guy that started in the first year and then disappeared about halfway through right?” Kazuichi followed up. They both aggressively nodded at each other in confirmation. Wait what? Hajime had definitely mentioned that he went to Hope's Peak, you’d think he would bring it up that he also attended. Well, he did mention moving schools a lot.

“Wait, wait. Do you guys mean at Hope's Peak?” Hajime interrupted their aggressive gesturing. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Yeah, yeah. He was nice but quiet, pretty unassuming. I always wondered what happened to him.” Kazuichi confirmed. It seemed the more he spoke the surer he was. 

It felt like someone was tugging incessantly on a little thread in Hajime’s brain like something wasn’t quite right. Why would Nagito not mention attending Hope's Peak, especially since he had been in the main course? It’s a pretty prestigious school, it seems like something you’d want to brag about. Maybe it was to do with why he left? That didn’t make sense either. Nagito was pretty upfront about the moved schools so often as a kid due to being in foster care. That meant it had to be something else. 

Hajime was lost in thought the whole rest of that afternoon. He answered all of his calls on autopilot and retreated back into his mind. A memory floated to the surface, but it was hazy. Most of the memories from school were, maybe because it was so long ago and maybe because he tried to forget it. High school isn't the best time for anyone and it definitely wasn’t for Hajime. He didn’t really make any friends until near the end of high school leading into college, that’s when his memories started to get clearer. The rest was just a blur of school work and loneliness. But not this one.

He was having lunch out the back of the school as he usually did. Hidden in the domineering building’s shadow as the dew from the grass slowly seeped into his slacks. But this time he wasn’t alone, someone else had fled to the shadows to escape the sun’s burning heat. He couldn’t place much more than that. He wasn’t even sure if it was real or just his brain filling in a blank period of time. Brains were fickle like that. Easily tricked.

He stumbled out of work at 8, trying to shake off his daze. He pulled out his phone to unmute it and realised he’d never ended up sending that text to Nagito. Was it too late to do it now? Probably not, right? He clicked send anyway.

**To Nagito ♥‿♥:**

**hey did you make it home ok?**

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

Nagito felt his phone buzz in his pocket as he stood outside the apartment door. It was mahogany probably, or maybe just painted to look like it. He quickly muted his mobile before knocking. Junko ‘didn’t like interruptions’. Not that it stopped her from being on her phone all the time.

He didn’t really mind though, he knew she was a busy woman. What with running a business and all. She was technically his boss but sometimes she felt more like an older sister or at least what he imagined an older sister would be like. Always protecting him and caring for him, he honestly didn’t know where he would be without her sometimes. 

Yes, she could be cruel but she only did it when she had to and he knew it hurt her as well. Every time Junko would lash out he deserved it and she always made up for it with a gift and an apology even if she didn’t have to. How could he not forgive her? This time she had called him over before he was due to go out and start work as usual. It went the same every time.

Junko would apologise profusely, even getting upset. Before saying how much she cared about him and that she ‘didn’t want to do it’. It was all very over-exaggerated and after years of it, he knew she was just playing it up to make sure he got the message. It’s like how you have to overact when you’re on stage compared to on-screen or something like that.

It was always followed with a gift, or money if she was short on time, but that didn’t happen as often. It was nice to know she went out of her way to get him something and give it to him in person. This time it was a strawberry tart from his favourite bakery. Well not that he had ever been there in person.

It put a little pep in his step as he headed off to work. Seeing Junko before work always did that. Seeing her after work was a necessity but seeing her before work was a luxury.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this when I was off of school due to Covid and now as of the 8th, I will be back in school. Updates may slow down a bit but I'm gonna try and stick to the weekly ones. We'll see how it goes.
> 
> I apologise if any of the characters are OOC but the space Dangan Ronpa was taking up in my brain has been consumed by Ace Attorney.
> 
> Anyways. Hot Ribena. Thoughts?


	6. That's not me, is it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d always loved snakes as a kid, the way they moved, their shiny scales, and most of all the thing he envied right now: the ability to shed their skin. Maybe that would fix it all if he could shed his skin as easily as his clothes. 
> 
> Nagito has a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really wasn't what I had planned this week and contributes basically nothing to the story. It's pretty much a vent chapter, I was just in the mood for it. Next week's chapter will be very fluffy I promise.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Sex references, Panic attacks/sensory overload, Identity issues.
> 
> If I've missed any trigger warnings do let me know.

Nagito pulled his jacket tight around him as he clambered out of the car and into the downpour. In his haste, he caught his foot on the door frame and went stumbling. He heard a dry chuckle behind him as he steadied himself followed by the familiar snap of a door slamming and the growl of an engine rumbling to life. 

The time was burned into his eyes now, 4:37 am. The neon car dashboard he had affixed his eyes to swam into view every time his eyelids fluttered shut. He roughly swiped his mouth on his sleeve before burying shaking hands in his pockets. He was trembling all over and soaked through. 

He stood there for a minute with his eyes closed breathing deeply. Sure it was a great way to get mugged but he needed a moment to center himself. To pack that little encounter away into a corner of his brain where it would gather dust. There was nothing he wanted to remember about tonight. 

The air was cold and crisp but not fresh. It felt still and stagnant. Bright lights reflected distorted in puddles. Everything had a soft haze, he couldn’t see clearly.

Some nights were better than others but they almost always ended the same way. Alone, cold, tired, and hungry. Sometimes he revelled in the attention, knowing that people wanted him so much they were willing to pay for just his touch, his presence. Other times he just wanted to retreat inwards and be anywhere but the back of someone’s car with steamed-up windows or in a shitty hotel room with rumpled sheets. They say touch is as essential as sunlight, but even sunlight can burn sometimes.

The rain was getting heavier now, each drop quaking the ground as it landed. Nagito shook his hair out, it was too late to put his hood up, his hair was already thoroughly soaked. The one time he brings a coat and he doesn’t even use it right.

The only thing the rain brought Nagito was numbness. Right now he welcomed it, it almost gave everything a dreamlike quality. It was all so fuzzy. Static crept into his fingertips, spreading through his body. Buzzing filled his ears. Water seeped into every little space, everflowing, everchanging. It almost looked like the sky was melting. It was almost beautiful. 

He glanced around warily, it seemed no one was looking. Bills slipped smoothly through his fingers as he counted. “100, 120, 180, 230, 280” he mumbled under his breath. Tonight had been busy and people had been much looser with their wallets than usual. Maybe it was near payday? Who knows. Nagito barely kept track of the months, let alone the date. Days had a way of blending together when you had no way to differentiate them. 

It was all just a blur of work and not-work. Nagito wouldn’t call the time he spent not working ‘life’, or ‘free time’. He wasn’t free, no matter how much he felt like he was, eventually he would stray too far and his leash would tighten, yanking him back to reality. But recently he’d found a respite, a rebellion, in Hajime. The time spent with him wasn’t a haze or something he tried to scrub from his memory. It was the most selfish thing he’d done or at least close, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care.

His whole life was spent relying on others, he couldn’t do anything himself. He was so useless and everyone else seemed to agree. Junko always managed to find a use for him but he was the one really gaining in their relationship. Without her, he probably wouldn’t even be alive. Maybe seeing Hajime wasn’t the most selfish thing he had done. 

His train of thought was getting hard to follow and the static was becoming overwhelming. It was just one of those days. He shook his head again and quickly pocketed his wallet.

The faster he dropped off the money the faster he could get home and the faster he could get home the faster he could… What? Being at home wouldn’t change anything. It would just mean there was no one for him to burden with his presence. 

Water lapped at his shoes as he walked. It slowly seeped in, not that he could tell, he’d stopped feeling his toes by around one. Nagito swallowed trying to clear his throat. The sweet strawberry that coated his tongue had long since faded leaving his mouth dry and bitter. His tongue felt too big for his mouth and his teeth hurt. He needed a drink.

Soon enough the familiar mahogany door loomed over him, it was solid and substantial. Flecked with droplets of water from the rain that still persisted. The walk had cleared his mind a little, given him time to steady his breathing. 

Nagito sharply rapped his knuckles against the door, a hot strike of pain flooded his mind. He’d used the wrong hand. He could feel it pulsing as he cradled it close to his chest. Heat washed over his numb body as tears pricked at his eyes. He tried to breathe through the pain. Everything suddenly felt blindingly clear. Too clear and sharp. The lights stung and each raindrop against his skin burned. His ears buzzed persistently.

Junko’s voice pierced through the chaos “Just use the letterbox, I’m busy” 

Busy? Of course, she was busy. She was always busy. He shouldn’t’ve disturbed her. He managed to fumble out his wallet and ease open the zipper with his teeth, right hand still tucked against his chest. It took a little while, his hands still trembled and his teeth joined in. The leather scraped unpleasantly against his teeth. He felt sick. The static got louder.

His eyes lingered on the wad of cash in his hand. Taking in the way the paper crinkled in between his fingers. He was mesmerised by their tempting glow. A car horn blared jolting him from his trance. Nagito quickly shoved the cash through the letterbox without another thought and strode off before he could do something he would regret.

Hurrying home as fast as he could Nagito pulled up his hood to block out as much as he could. He would have closed his eyes too but he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. He darted past cars and ducked into narrow alleyways. He didn’t care enough to be careful anymore. He just wanted to get home. 

Each step was harder than the last. It felt like the alleyways were closing in on him, growing smaller and smaller. Not enough to be noticeable until they crushed him. At least the alleyways were dark and quiet. He really was the perfect mugging victim, though at this point he had nothing worth taking.

Nagito thumped up the stairs to his apartment. He was sure he could feel the grainy concrete through his shoes and every bump on the icy handrail. His door bobbed into view as he rounded the corner, white and glossy as always. The thought of peeling his hand off of that door was comparable to skinning his own palm.

He covered his hand with his sleeve before he placed it on the door. Normally he would be berating himself for being so useless but his head was underwater, liquid flooding his brain making him unable to think. The static grew and grew in volume consuming him. It felt like his very bones were vibrating as he slammed the door behind him.

His keys made an awful clattering as they collided with the floor that made him wince. Eyes burning, he stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. A sob wrenched its way out of his throat as he sunk onto the ground burying his face in his knees. The fabric was scratchy and itchy, it made his face feel raw. His clothes clung tightly to him.

He threw his head back against the door with a thump. Hot tears streaked down his face. Nagito shifted, the hood of his jacket bunched up against his shoulder blades, digging in. He shuffled forwards and wrestled out of it. His hands got tangled in the sleeves and he was still sitting on the bottom of it. He whined in distress. Why wouldn’t it just come off?!

Thump. He hurled it into the opposite corner. He didn’t feel any better, just colder and more exposed. He curled into a little ball tucked into the corner in the dark and sobbed. His cheeks prickled and his skin felt too tight. His wet jeans were creased uncomfortably around his knees and his belt dug in too much. Nothing felt right.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped his face on it. He hadn’t stopped crying but maybe it would help. The shirt was soaking wet so it made no difference. He placed a hand on the toilet lid and hoisted himself up still shaking. He slammed the light switch, the sudden glow blinding him.

Leaning his hands on the sink Nagito gazed up into the mirror. He wasn’t quite sure why he did this, maybe it was some kind of attempt to shame himself into stopping. If he could see how ridiculous he looked maybe he could find the willpower to stop himself. It didn’t work.

The person in the mirror was barely even recognisable to him. He grasped the porcelain in a vice grip. White hair plastered to their forehead, almost blending into the sickly white skin. Their jaw was patched in blotchy purples and blues. Glossy eyes peeked out of deep bruised sockets from which rivulets of tears ran. He reached his hand up to his cheek and the person in the mirror mimicked.

Nagito reached his hand out to touch them and recoiled when his fingers brushed the frigid glass. Was that really him? He wasn’t sure anymore. He steadied his breathing and realised just how weak he felt. He felt small and heavy. The weight of his saturated clothes rooted him to the floor. They felt prickly against his skin and his shoes squelched if he shifted. He felt gross.

He kicked his shoes off and turned the shower on to warm up. He kept his back to the mirror as he shucked his clothes off and threw them onto the floor with a wet shlop. A small puddle began to form underneath them. He could deal with it later. 

Nagito fumbled trying to find the cupboard under the sink, he didn’t want to risk catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. If he couldn’t see it it wasn’t real. That wasn’t who he was. Eventually, he yanked out a towel, by that time the room was mostly full of steam and a lot warmer.

The light was still too much, too harsh, too sharp, too bleak. Every time he saw himself it just didn’t feel right. He’d always loved snakes as a kid, the way they moved, their shiny scales, and most of all the thing he envied right now: the ability to shed their skin. Maybe that would fix it all if he could shed his skin as easily as his clothes. 

He clicked the light back off so the room was illuminated only by the streetlight trickling through his small window. The shadows were long and dark and the room was warm. He clambered into the shower, warm water cascaded over his body. He ducked his head under the spray and slicked his hair back. The persistent buzzing in his ears was replaced with the sound of rushing water. Much better. It stung a little as the feeling crept back into his limbs.

The steam filled his lungs, warming him up from the inside too. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. Finding the towel had been distracting and grounding enough for him to stop crying. The overwhelming feeling of wrongness and exposure washed over him again in waves. Each time he would manage to calm down and stop crying it would hit him again and again. 

His chest hurt and his mouth felt disgusting, mucus had accumulated at the back of his throat. He spat a mouthful into the shower below him, trying to avoid his feet. He was glad the lights were off.

The scent of lavender and some other amalgamation of floral scents filled his nostrils as he uncapped the shower gel and filled his palm. Some shower gel scents didn’t make much sense to Nagito, what was 'icy chill' or 'deep-sea' supposed to smell like anyway? He’d rather pick something he knew than risk buying something that left him smelling like a high school changing room.

Lavender reminded him of tea and summer. Maybe also of his mother but that could just be projection. Either way, it was nice and safe. 

He cranked the shower handle off and grabbed his towel from where he had tossed it over the shower rail. It was thick and heavy if a little rough from years of use. But in a comforting sort of way. He threw it around his shoulders after drying off, rubbing it between his finger and thumb as he opened the bathroom door to go find some clothes.

He was sure if the lights were on he would be able to see his breath currently and the steam rising from his skin. He was tired but not in a way that could be fixed with a good night’s sleep. More like in a way that could be eased with a good cup of tea.

He managed to make it to his bedroom with only bumping into a few pieces of furniture. His bed was rumpled, hurriedly made last night before he’d left the house. Pyjamas were strewn over the covers. He tossed them on, trying not to think, and snagged Hajime’s hoodie from his sofa on his way to the kitchen.

Despite being shorter than him Hajime was much broader so the hoodie fitted nice and oversized, perfect right now. Nagito pulled up the hood using it as a makeshift headband. Normally the hair in his face was fine but right now he just couldn’t deal with that distraction. It would tickle his face and rub his skin raw. 

Sometimes he thought about cutting it all off. He’d had short hair a couple of times and it never worked out. It brought out the worst parts of his face and gave him nothing to twiddle when he was nervous. He didn’t like feeling so exposed, so harsh. He liked soft. Hajime was soft, not necessarily in looks or demeanor but he just had some soft quality to him.

In Nagito’s experience, most things could be classed as soft or sharp. For example icy chill was sharp and lavender was soft. He clicked on the kitchen light, it was an energy-saving bulb so the light was much softer than the others in his apartment. He clicked on the kettle and slid some pop-tarts into the toaster while he busied himself with collecting a mug and teabag. Tea was always best with honey, luckily it never went out of date. 

He’d never gotten used to the flavour of actual tea leaves, herbal teas were much more appealing. Not to mention they smelt significantly better. He snagged a bag of mugwort and cinnamon. It was experimental but thankfully worked out as long as it was generously sweetened.

Nagito tucked himself against the wall up on the counter cupping his mug with both hands gently blowing on it causing the steam to drift around. His pop tarts were balanced one on each knee, gradually warming them through the fabric. He stared at the steam mesmerised. The heat grounded him slightly and with each sip he felt a little more himself again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a lot shorter than other chapters but definitely satisfying to write. A majority of my writing is just me going "hmm what aspect of my personality can I project onto this character?" so it ends up pretty angsty, I can't resist a happy/hopeful ending though.
> 
> I go back to school next week which will either improve my writing schedule or destroy it, we shall see.

**Author's Note:**

> I have since edited this chapter because I've decided to make this into a full story.


End file.
